"What demand makes refusal impossible?"

Auryn stared at the blank parchment. Quill hovering. Words forming but dissolving before reaching ink.

His hand was cramped. He flexed his fingers as his chest wound throbbed. A quick and sharp reminder why this mattered.

I need to move first. Strike before they coordinate any defense.

But the perfect words wouldn’t come. They kept evading him.

"Tsk"

A sound suddenly broke him out of his dilemma. He turned to Lyra entering. Wooden tray in hands. Steam coiling up with each of her steps.

The smell hit him immediately, his heightened senses revered It. It was rich and familiar.

The same healing herbs. The ones his old healer used to pack wounds.

She set the tray on the desk beside his failed attempts. She moved parchments aside carefully. Ignoring his worried face with only one intent in mind.

"You need to eat."

"I’m trying to write." He glanced at her irritated.

"You can do both." She pulled a chair close and sat.

She ladled stew into a bowl. It was dark and thick with chunks of meat and vegetables visible.

"This has comfrey and calendula. My family’s plantings. We know which herbs aid recovery." She offered the spoon.

"Eat."

He took it and tasted.

Damn He thought. It was good. Better than good. The herbs were subtle and balanced against the meat and stock.

"You made this?" He asked with visible interest in the answer.

"I did." Lyra smiled.

"Why?" Auryn’s eyebrow raised.

She met his eyes. "Because you took an arrow for me? "

That was reason enough but it wasn’t all.

" ..And because..."

She paused, searching for words.

"Because I’m choosing this. You. Us. Whatever this is." She tried downplaying it.

"I need to show that. Not just say it."

He smiled. Satisfaction in his eyes while he ate.

Lyra watched him. Denying his attempts to feed her as comfortable silence stayed between them before she broke it.

"What were you trying to write?"

"A formal complaint to the Triarch Council." He exclaimed.

"About Castor?"

Obviously... He thought. "Yes." He answered simply.

"What’s stopping you?"

He set the empty bowl down slowly. "Finding the right words. The right demand."

"Demand too much, they’ll dismiss it. Too little, they’ll ignore it."

She considered his words timely. "What do you want?"

"That’s the problem. I know what I want. I don’t know what they’ll accept."

Their discussion was suddenly halted as Borin entered. He saw Lyra and simply nodded once in greeting.

She stood, ready to leave and let them discuss.

Auryn’s hand snapped at her wrist. He held on to her and didn’t say another word. Her amber eyes met his and understanding bloomed between them.

She sat back and simply pull her chair to the side, giving space for Borin.

Borin noticed. A small, yet approving smile on his face.

"Lad. Word camera from the capital."

Auryn straightened. "And?"

"Triarch Council’s convening. But they’re waiting."

"For this?" He raised the empty parchment.

"Yes, your formal complaint. They won’t issue summons until you state your case officially."

Auryn’s jaw tightened. "They’re making me move first."

Good

"Aye. Standard procedure for accusations between nobles. The accuser submits demands. Council reviews. Then summons both parties."

"How fast will they move once I send it?"

"Same day. Phoenix-messengers work both ways. Your letter reaches them by afternoon, summons come back by evening. We travel at dawn."

Not bad He smirked inwardly.

Lyra leaned forward. "Then we need to decide what you’re demanding. Now!"

Auryn looked at her. Then at Borin.

"Thoughts?"

Borin crossed his arms. "Execution is tradition for treason. But Castor’s Second Sword and you survived, his valuable would be put in front of you."

"Territory then." Lyra’s mind engaged. "His eastern holdings border Aurelia. Gives us strategic advantage."

"Which territories specifically?" Auryn asked. Though he was already aware of what he wanted.

She thought. "Promise Valley, controls the mountain pass and trade route to the northern provinces."

"Greenstone Hills." Borin added. "Has mineral deposits. Iron and copper. Would be valuable in the future."

"Raverie." Lyra continued. "It has fertile plains. It feeds the eastern province."

Auryn nodded. "Three territories. Why those specifically?"

"Promise gives us trade control." Lyra’s voice was confident now. "Every merchant caravan heading north has to pass through. Toll rights alone would double our revenue."

"Greenstone gives us resources." Borin’s tone was direct. "Right now we import most of our iron. This makes us self-sufficient and exporters."

"Raverie gives us food security." Lyra finished. "We’re stable now. But if we expand, we’ll need more production and those plains can feed twice our current population."

Auryn studied them both, impressed. Having them by his side would definitely make life easier here.

"What about defenses?" He asked Borin.

"Promise valley is a natural fortress. Mountain pass is narrow. Easy to defend. Greenstone has elevation advantage. Raverie’s exposed, but we’d have numbers there."

"And overall?"

"Defensible. Especially with our current forces." Borin concluded.

Auryn looked at Lyra. "Trade impact?"

"Quite significant. Northern merchants would have to negotiate with us instead of Castor. That’s leverage we’ve never had."

"And Castor loses what?"

"A third of his territory. Half his trade income. His primary food source." Her eyes were sharp and calculating . It seemed like she was always waiting for this chance.

"It cripples him without killing him." Auryn concluded.

"Which is what Draelor will want." Borin added. "Punishment without execution. Keeps the Second Sword alive, weakened or not."

Auryn took everything in. Formulating his own plans as well.

"Territory then. Those three specifically. Plus compensation for the attack. Gold and trade concessions."

They nodded in unison.

"Lyra." Auryn gestured to the desk. "Write it."

She blinked. "Me?"

"You’re council adviser. Your hand is steadier than mine right now." He touched his bandaged chest. "And your script is better."

She moved to the desk and pulled a fresh parchment forward. Dipped quill in ink.

"What do I write?"

"Start formal. Address it to the Triarch Council. All three princes. Draelor presiding."

She wrote with steady hand.

"To the Triarch Council, First Prince Draelor Ignisar presiding...

"State the crime. Attempted assassination. Treason against a prince of the blood."

Her quill moved precisely.

"Lord Castor of the Eastern Province did willfully and with malice attack Prince Auryn Ignisar, Third Son of the Dragon God..."

"Now the demand. Promise Valley, Greenstone Hills, Raverie Plains. Plus fifty thousand gold compensation—"

"No."

Lyra’s quill suddenly stopped, her eyes turned to him. Borin straightened, doing the same.

"Lad?"

Auryn who’d began pacing leaned against the desk and looked at what she’d written.

"Tear that up--- He smirked deviously.

---- I’ve a plan."